


starlight, magic, you

by jeserai



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeserai/pseuds/jeserai
Summary: But Adora hasn’t given up on trying, and neither has Catra. And in the meantime, they have this time now, and all of the dreams that will come.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 156
Collections: Catradora Soulmates Zine





	starlight, magic, you

**Author's Note:**

> this was for the now cancelled catradora soulmates zine, and the partner to [fai's](https://ftsartblog.tumblr.com/) gorgeous artwork that you can see [here](https://ftsartblog.tumblr.com/post/632538727596621824/but-adora-hasnt-given-up-on-trying-and-neither)

The dream starts as all of Adora’s dreams do. Her eyes open, and she realizes that she’s floating in empty space, that she’s still asleep. It feels like it’s been a while since she’s had one of  _ these  _ dreams, and she feels clumsy when she tries to get herself in a properly upright position; it’s like swimming against a current, like trying to walk while wearing weights strapped to her ankles. But slowly, as she walks towards the point of light in the distance, the proper motions begin to come back to her.

And like with every dream, the light hums in watery shades of silver and violet and gold and teal and vivid pink as it swallows her up and spits her back out—this time into  _ space.  _ Adora is surrounded by shining stars in gorgeous shades of honey gold, and as she takes it all in, she hears an achingly familiar voice, quiet and unsure.

“Hey, Adora.”

And there, just as suddenly, is Catra.

She looks...better than the last time they saw each other: the bags under her eyes are gone, a soft smile plays at the corners of her lips, the curve of her body is relaxed. And—

“ _ What? _ What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just—you still have your ears and tail, and it’s cute, that’s all. I  _ promise  _ I’m not laughing at you.”

Catra’s tail bristles and her ears fold back and Adora is  _ trying  _ to stop laughing, but she  _ can’t,  _ and, “They’re not  _ cute!  _ I am  _ not  _ cute, I’m just  _ used  _ to them—would you  _ quit  _ looking at me like that?”

“You’re  _ adorable. _ ”

This time, Catra just squeaks, her cheeks flushing pink as she stares hard at a spot somewhere near Adora’s left. Instead of rising to her bait, Catra mutters, “You know, I was  _ going _ to say that I missed you.”

And  _ oh.  _ “I missed you too, you know. I’ve been trying to find you, but…”

Catra nods, and she looks just as crestfallen as Adora feels. She and Catra have known that they’re soulmates since  _ forever  _ now; the dreams are a sure sign of that, but as they’ve grown older, the dreams have started to come far and few between, and like always, upon waking, they’ll forget everything. So despite how many people probably dream of their soulmate, the chances of actually  _ finding  _ them are almost miniscule.

But Adora hasn’t given up on trying, and neither has Catra. And in the meantime, they have this time now, and all of the dreams that will come.

“I know. But I’m not giving up on you, Catra. I won’t ever.”

Catra nods, looking so  _ fond  _ all of a sudden that Adora feels herself begin to blush, but when Catra holds out her hand, Adora takes it without hesitation. “Dance with me,” Catra says, and when Adora nods, Catra gently pulls into a flowing waltz that she leads as easy as breathing. Adora doesn’t know when it happens—somewhere between Catra’s hand falling to her waist and Adora tucking her head into Catra’s neck—but their clothes have changed now, and the stars around them are all shining gold.

Adora’s new gown twists around her ankles and Catra’s suit looks as if it has been spun from starsilk; Catra dips her with a wink and when Adora comes back up, there are matching circlets of gold resting against their foreheads, and when Catra spins her around, her hair comes loose of its ponytail, flowing freely as she laughs in delight. And so Catra continues: she weaves trails of stardust into Adora’s hair and onto her bare arms, and where she touches, Adora feels fever-warm and melted to honey.

Once she’s satisfied, and the two of them are blanketed with starshine, Catra twirls them around and around through the galaxy, eyes on Adora like she’s trying to memorize her. And despite the happiness written all across her face, there is an ages old sadness in her eyes, one that Adora feels too, because— “Adora...it’s been months since we’ve dreamed together.  _ Months. _ ”

“I know,” Adora tucks her face into Catra’s neck, breathes her in deep. “I’ll  _ find  _ you. I’ll find you somehow, you have to believe me.”

“Adora, listen to me.” Catra brings both hands up to cup Adora’s cheeks in her hands to force her gaze up. “I  _ believe  _ you. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve met—if you say you’ll find me, you somehow will. But I just...I don’t know  _ how  _ anymore, and I don’t know how much time we have left, and I...” Her thumb traces the swell of Adora’s lower lip and she’s never been made so flustered so fast, never wanted so much in her  _ life. _

But Catra is right. They’re getting older now, and they’re running out of time. Adora is sure that if she and Catra meet after the dreams stop completely that they’ll somehow connect, that they’ll become friends and maybe more, but there’s always a fear that lingers in the back of her mind during the time they have together: what if they  _ don’t  _ find each other? It’s not like she’ll even know, really, since she won’t remember that Catra existed at all, but  _ still— _

“We’ll find each other. We just need a little more time.”

Adora nods and closes her eyes, wishing she could be truly  _ with  _ Catra and hating the fact that they  _ still  _ haven’t found each other yet. There are a thousand and one things that she wants to say, but she can’t bring herself to voice anything; so she lets her cheek rest against Catra’s shoulder and gives into the gentle sway and spin, and—

Adora wakes to the buzz of her phone and sunlight in her eyes.

For a moment, she is disoriented; caught between the haze of a dream that she’s already forgotten, and though she would like nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, one look at the time makes her scramble out of bed, send a quick text to Bow to thank him for waking her, and then head to the bathroom for the quickest shower of her life.

It’s already almost 8:45 and the class she’s supposed to help teach starts at 9:30—and sure, she’s just an assistant teacher, and she’s not going to be fired for coming in late one time, but Adora still takes these things _ seriously. _

Somehow, she’s dressed and out the door by 9:05, and one growl of her stomach forces her to head to the Starbucks on the way to the campus. If she’s lucky, the line will be short, and she can get a coffee to tide her over for the few hours she’ll be working today; by noon she’ll hopefully be able to get something proper to eat.

So of course, she is not lucky.

It’s 9:10 when she pulls into the lot, but the line at the drive through is much longer than usual, so Adora heads inside, hoping against all hope that she’ll be able to get her drink and be back on the road by 9:20. It even seems like it might work; there are only two people that have yet to order, and a few more people waiting for their drinks. As Adora stands in line, fighting a yawn, the woman ahead of her brings her phone out and laughs at something on the screen, and—her laugh sounds strangely  _ familiar.  _ She’s sure she’s never met this woman before, and she can’t be sure without looking at her face, but that laugh, high-pitched and squeaky, makes Adora smile, makes her want to brush her hair behind her ears and say something dumb just to hear that laugh again.

As she tries to think of something to say—a comment on the weather, or about how long the line had been,  _ anything  _ to get the almost-familiar woman to look at her—the only other person ahead of them finishes their order and the woman steps up to the register to order. Adora can't quite hear what she says, but from now she can at least see her side profile: her hair curling around her face and into the bright blue of her eye when she looks down, the freckles dusting her cheek, the curve of her smile. Even just seeing this little of her makes Adora’s heart skip a beat and she glances away, flustered despite not having been caught.

And then it’s her turn to order. Adora watches the woman in front of her as she goes to wait for her order, eyes glued to her phone, then steps up to the register to order her usual. “Just a tall iced cocoa cloud macchiato, please.”

As she waits for her order to be typed up and for her card to be processed, Adora’s gaze keeps wandering towards the woman that had been ahead of her; she’s sitting down now, staring out the window, her fingers drumming against the tabletop. Would she think Adora weird if she sat with her instead of at any of the empty tables in the cafe?

Before Adora can decide, one of the other workers calls out seven words that make a shiver run down Adora’s spine: “Venti caramel frappe, extra whip, for Catra?”

_ Catra. _

__ Adora knows two things now: she does not know who this woman is, but she  _ knows  _ that name. As she wracks her brain, frozen in place, the woman who had been just ahead of her in line—Catra—stands to get her drink. Adora wants to say something, but finds her tongue turned to lead in her mouth; she steps forwards but still cannot bring herself to speak, and then Catra turns to the door and is about to step outside and Adora will never see her again, will never know why her heart is pounding so quickly in her chest—and the sheer panic makes her blurt out, “ _ Catra? _ ”

At the sound of her voice, Catra stops dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turns around, eyes narrowed and brows knit together, and then she sees Adora staring at her, and she tilts her head to the side, confused. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t—maybe? I think so? I’m Adora—”

All at once, Catra’s eyes widen with recognition and overwhelming  _ joy _ . “Adora?”

Adora’s heart is racing now, but she must still look confused, because Catra laughs and shakes her head and comes closer, just a few paces away now. “Let me try that again, okay?  _ Hey,  _ Adora.”

And  _ oh. _

Everything,  _ everything  _ floods back into her mind all at once. Their first meeting in Adora’s dream where they’d ridden a pegasus together, the first time they fought in Catra’s dream-turned-nightmare that had left Adora shaking upon waking. The dream where they had almost kissed for the first time, their last dream together, golden and starry.

“Catra—you’re...you’re  _ here.  _ Do you remember me?”

Catra steps forwards again and with one trembling hand, reaches out and hesitantly wipes away the stray tear that had slipped down Adora’s cheek. And then her hand settles warm against Adora’s cheek, and she  _ smiles,  _ so tender and gentle that Adora feels more tears well up. “How could I  _ ever  _ forget you, princess?”

Adora’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she startles hard, then remembers that by the time she makes it to work, she’ll be painfully late. “Do you have anywhere to be? Can we—you already have coffee, never mind. Um.”

Catra laughs that lovely laugh again and rolls her eyes. “Give me your phone and go get your drink, dork. I’ll give you my number and we can meet up again later, okay?”

With a fierce blush scorching her cheeks, Adora scrambles to do as she’s told, and by the time she comes back to Catra, her soulmate—her  _ soulmate— _ has already put herself in Adora’s phone and she’s waiting by the door, a soft smile flirting with her lips. She holds the door open for Adora, and walks her to her car in silence; despite  _ everything  _ between them, Adora is sure that if she starts talking, she’ll never stop, and either way, the quiet is kind of nice. It’s familiar, just like Catra is.

“Hey, uh...tonight. Do you want to come over for dinner?”

Again, Adora’s heart nearly thuds out of her chest, and she nods, flushed pink again. “I’d love to.”

They’ve been standing at her car for what feels like forever now, and Adora is  _ late, _ and the ice in their coffee will melt, but Adora  _ still  _ can’t bring herself to move. She’s just...staring at Catra now and taking in the new differences and old familiarities: her hair, no longer long but cut short and curling around her ears, her gem-bright eyes still the same, the warmth that had always,  _ always  _ been in her smile.

Her lips.

“I want to kiss you,” Catra says then. Adora’s heart positively  _ stops _ . “I’ve wanted to for so long now...is that okay?”

Adora nods, and Catra puts her drink down on the hood of Adora’s car. After a beat, Adora does the same—Catra laughs and shakes her head so very fondly—and freezes as Catra cups her cheeks with both hands. Catra’s hands are trembling, but Adora’s are too as they fall to her waist, but her nervousness doesn’t matter, because Catra is  _ here,  _ and she is so  _ close,  _ and then,  _ finally,  _ Catra kisses her.

Somehow, it is better than any dream.


End file.
